


My Specific Dream Rabbit

by Anatole



Series: Patience Rewarded [3]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Wedding Day, Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 12:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatole/pseuds/Anatole
Summary: Bertie and Jeeves travel to Paris to exchange wedding vows.





	My Specific Dream Rabbit

On the eve of our wedding day, Bertram and I found ourselves on the train to Paris. I’d never dreamt that one day I could say such a thing about myself. Society barred marriage from people like us but we didn’t need anyone’s approval to seal our union. Our plan made me feel defiant when we were waiting for the train at the station, surrounded by strangers. They suspected nothing, and therefore they were unable to stop us.

Fortunately, we had our first-class compartment all to ourselves, so we could afford to be discretely affectionate. I draped a blanket over us both and Bertram slid his hand underneath to hold mine. We looked at each other and giggled like two conspirators. After the ticket control, he leant on my left side, settling for sleep. Hoping we wouldn’t be further disturbed, I let him do it and even pressed a lingering kiss to his head, savouring the sensation of his hair brushing my lips.

“Oh, Reggie,” he said, gently squeezing my hand under the blanket.

“Yes, my dear?”

“This whole wheeze feels positively corking and we haven’t even reached Paris yet, what?”

“I agree that the situation is unfolding most satisfactorily.”

He chuckled.

“Please never change.”

Bertram’s weight on my arm made me feel peaceful and content, and we both drifted off to sleep. We were temporarily out of reach of his domineering aunts and hot-headed acquaintances, and I experienced a sense of safety and certainty that what we shared was something special and legitimate, regardless of the fact that we were the sole witnesses of our devotion.

 

Upon our arrival, we breakfasted and refreshed ourselves at the hotel, already beaming with anticipation of the day ahead of us. Subsequently, we commenced to unpack our luggage. I confess I let out a gasp when I came across a pink polka dots tie in one of the suitcases. I carefully fished it out with two fingers to appraise it more closely. Bertram stopped whistling the tune of “Oh By Jingo!” and turned around to face me. I cleared my throat and said:

“May I enquire as to the provenance of this object?”

Bertram crossed his arms on his chest and raised his left eyebrow.

“Oh come now, Reggie. Won’t you indulge me on our wedding day?”

“I apologise but my sartorial sensitivity is difficult to overcome.”

“I know, old thing, I learnt it the hard way. But this little chappie is rather jolly, what? Just as jolly as I am today.”

I looked at the offending item woefully but I had no heart to think of a scheme to dispose of it on a day like this.

“Perhaps you could be agreeable to donning it tomorrow, instead of today? I have other arrangements in mind for this occasion.”

“Indeed?” He asked.

I proceeded to retrieve a small package from my suitcase; it contained two matching cream-coloured ties that were perfectly appropriate for wedding attire.

“I thought these would be suitable.”

“I say.”

He ran his fingers across the fabric, appearing to be content, after all.

“They are rather corking, I admit,” he said. “We’ll make handsome grooms.”

I smiled, already envisioning the evening.

“Now we only need to buy wedding rings. Shall we toodle-oo to do it now?” His face lit up at this prospect and I hated to spoil his excitement; however, I’d put serious thought into the matter and concluded that going together may not be the best solution.

“I’ve thought this through and came to the conclusion that it would be best if I went alone.”

His lips parted in surprise, and as I’d feared, he looked hurt.

“But why, Reggie? They won’t suspect anything at the jeweller’s.”

“This is not my concern. I’m afraid a modicum of conversation is inevitable, and the owner of the shop is bound to assume that only one of us is getting married and enquire about the bride. I only want to spare you the unpleasantness.”

He sighed and took my hand in his.

“Reggie...” He said softly. Thankfully he wasn’t angry. “You don’t have to protect me from everything. I know that you’re a _preux chevalier_ , just like yours truly, but this Wooster is no damzel in distress. Don’t forget that I’m descended from the crusaders. I can put up a stiff upper lip when necessary.”

Fortunately, his innate sense of humour dispelled the brief moment of sadness, and we smiled in unison.

“Of course, I’ll go with you,” he reiterated. “With my experience, I’ll know if the rings are modern Dutch.”

Having deposited our ties on a chair, I enveloped him in a tight embrace. I didn’t want to kiss him on the lips just then, more or less consciously saving it for later. However, having his body pressed to mine felt exquisite and I’d gladly stay like that for hours.

“So, are we going then, old thing?” He asked me when we finally parted.

“Yes.”

“Tally ho, then.”

 

“I say,” said Bertram when we left the hotel. “I’ve just had an epi… No, that’s not it. Epilepsy? Epicureism? Epigram?”

“May I venture to suggest that epiphany is the word you’re looking for?” I replied, amused by his verbal gymnastics, so characteristic of him.

“Yes, that’s it. That is to say I’ve just had a spiffing idea, my dear man.”

“Would you care to elucidate it, Bertram?”

“Oh, rather. That’s the point of this together-ever-after wheeze, to share all of our spiffing ideas with each other, isn’t it?”

“I would certainly hope so.”

“I thought why won’t we pop in at the photographer’s before going to the jeweller’s? It’d be splendid to have some memorandums of this special day.”

“Memoranda, my dear Bertram. The word is derived from...” I stopped in mid-sentence, seeing him shake his head with a smile on his face.

“You’re quite impossible, you know? My very own walking dictionary.”

I raised the corner of my lips, amused by his good-natured teasing.

“Getting back to the original point: I concur. Your idea is marvellous.”

I saw a spark in his eyes and I knew that at this moment he was undeniably happy. I was enthralled by the prospect of this expression being immortalised by a photographer. I’d been carrying a picture of him among my personal belongings since long before we entered our agreement. I am aware that I generally come across as cold and rational, but deep down I’m somewhat sentimental. I admit that sometimes in a moment of tenderness I pressed it to my heart to give myself an illusion of holding him in my arms. The fact that we’d be photographed together moved me deeply.

At the studio we introduced ourselves as English tourists, which was actually true. I told the photographer that we promised to send some pictures of us alongside postcards to our families. This explanation was superfluous but deep inside I was worried that someone may see us through. Encouraged by the photographer, we were photographed in at least four different poses and left his establishment in high spirits.

Subsequently, we went to the jeweller’s. I needn’t have worried about any uncomfortable enquiries; the owner of the place was absent and it was either an apprentice or a relative of his who dealt with us. She behaved in a very matter-of-fact way and made no personal comments. She may have underestimated our command of French, as we’d introduced ourselves as Englishmen. Whatever her reasons were, I was grateful for the lack of assumptions on her part. We chose a plain pair of wedding rings – we felt no need for embellishments, considering that no one but ourselves would see them.

Then we strolled around the city for about two hours, not letting the snow discourage us. The familiar Parisian landscape was picturesque and the winter gave even more allure to it. Then and now Bertram linked his arm with mine, with no apparent self-consciousness, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. I tried to protest at first, aware that caution was essential for our safety, but he pointed out that there were other gentlemen carrying about just like we did here and nobody even gave us as much as a passing look. London was different; there we faced the risk of discovery but here we were merely inconspicuous tourists. I indulged him, hoping that fate wouldn’t be cruel to us on our wedding day.

 

When we were back at the hotel, we ordered a modest dinner to our room and then we both took a bath. When the time came to change for the occasion, a surge of emotion filled me anew. As I was assisting Bertram with his tie, he gently took hold of my hand.

“You’re trembling,” he remarked, looking at my reflection in the mirror.

“I admit to a certain degree of trepidation.”

“And you are not alone in this trepi-what’s-it,” he said, placing my hand on his chest. His heart was racing and his breathing was rapid. For a moment we stood still in front of the mirror, as if afraid to break the spell. I then kissed his nape, smoothing his curls with my fingers, and whispered:

“Let me finish.”

When we were both fully dressed, we admired each other in our matching attire.

“You look dashing, old thing,” said Bertram. “Positively spiffing.”

“Thank you. And so do you; you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen. ‘Your eyes smile peace,’ as the poet Rossetti said.”

“I say,” he blushed at my words. I knew he was still unaccustomed to receiving compliments but I’d resolved to overcome my innate reserve and regularly reassure him of my appreciation for him.

“Shall we?” I took his hand and led him to the centre of the room. I cast a swift glance at the windows to check whether the curtains were properly drawn to ensure that we wouldn’t be seen from the outside. However, in spite of all the threats that we faced, I had never felt safer in my life.

“Right ho, Reggie. This Wooster is all agog. Ready?”

I nodded, squeezing his hand.

“You know, Reggie… I’ve been about to walk down the aisle plenty of times but I’ve never believed I would actually find myself before the altar. Not that there is any altar in this room but at least I feel oojah-cum-spiff here with you.”

“You can be sure that the sentiment is reciprocated. I have also believed marriage to be impossible for me. Nevertheless, today I feel ready to defy the world for you.”

I heard a sniffling sound and he promptly had to dry the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief.

“Reggie, I am still flab… flab-something-or-other that you harbour a tender pash for yours truly… Sometimes it’s crossed the old onion that no one could possibly love me. We Woosters are made of stern stuff so I would have carried on bravely anyway, like my sire at Agincourt but… I am so dashed grateful that I have you now and I don’t care if Aunt Agatha tries to meddle in my affairs forever – we will think of something… And I’d really want to tell everybody about us but I know I can’t and I won’t let it spoil anything for me. Today means everything to me.”

Tears trailed down his cheeks but he collected himself and continued:

“I love you, Reginald, and I vow to love you till my dying day. And to care about you… Not that you really need any fishing out of the soup with this fish-fed brain of yours but if you ever need anything, I’ll be there… And… What’s the formula? I take you as my husband… I can’t really say lawfully wedded but what has the law got to do with it? It’s coming straight from the Wooster heart. I love you, you marvel of a man. I hope you forgive my soppiness but you’re really my specific dream rabbit.”

I was immensely moved by his declaration but I couldn’t help chuckling at that familiar reference. He was so good-hearted and well-meaning that his love humbled me. I took a deep breath, readying myself for my own vow.

“Thank you, Bertram.” My voice, usually steady and imperturbable, shook with emotion. I admit to a modicum of literary knowledge, yet the poems I had read throughout the years didn’t fully prepare me for the intensity of feeling connected with committing myself to my beloved. Nevertheless, it was poetry that helped me express my feelings:

“’Beloved! / While I am I, and you are you, / So long as the world contains us both, / Me the loving and you the loth / While the one eludes, must the other pursue.’”

“One of your own?”

“No, the poet Browning’s. But you must know that you fill my heart with poetry, Bertram.”

“I say,” he whispered and I could see he was blushing. I put my hand on his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin and his heartbeat. When I spoke the next words, I looked straight into his eyes, obscured by a layer of tears.

“I do take you as my husband, Bertram. I promise to love you and to cherish you till death do us part. And I will protect you as I am sure you will protect me. I am aware that we may encounter obstacles on our path but I am ready to face them by your side. I love you Bertram and I am sorry that there is nothing more that I can give you and that you can’t tell other people about us, at least not yet...”

He put his finger on my lips, hushing me.

“Reggie… I know it’s rummy that this sub… sub...”

“Is subterfuge the word you’re looking for, my dear?”

“Yes, that’s the chappie. I know this subterfuge is not exactly hotsy-totsy but you mean everything to me, old fruit, and if being Lot’s-wifed about it is what it takes to keep you close to the Wooster bosom, then be it, dash it. And today means more to me than any wedding with dozens of guests would do. You are my entire world, Reggie. And I still can’t believe this is actually happening.”

Having fetched the wedding rings, I took his hand in mine, gently put the ring on his finger and then kissed his hand. He did the same to me and I could feel how agitated he was when he placed my palm against his lips.

“When we return to London, we can wear them as necklaces over our hearts, so that nobody will notice anything but we’ll always feel each other’s presence. But here in Paris we can risk wearing them in public. I doubt it will attract any attention.”

He smiled brightly, admiring his ring.

“It’s just corking, old thing,” he said in his usual endearing way. “And now, may I kiss the groom?”

I nodded, reminded of how much I wanted him. He promptly cupped my face with his hands and covered my lips with his own. We were in no hurry, I thought, as my fingers started wandering underneath his clothes; we had the whole night ahead of us and no one would disturb us here. And then we had many nights and days in the years to come.

 

The next morning, I woke up considerably later than was my custom. I relished the feeling of holding him in my arms, away from any potential disturbances. I kissed his forehead when he opened his eyes

“What ho, Reggie, my… my husband. It sounds really marvellous, what?”

“It does, indeed, love.”

“Now, old thing… I hope you won’t give your deathly glare to my dashing new tie if I wear it today.”

I giggled, which is not very common of me, but he was just preciously impossible.

“I’ll endeavour to remain neutral towards the item in question, as much as it disagrees with my sartorial sensitivity.”

“I love you, Reggie, even with that particular trait of yours.”

“And I love you too, even in garish ties.”


End file.
